A chess club for kids thrives in a Congo refugee camp. It’s about more than the game

By RUTH ALONGA
Associated Press

KANYARUCHINYA, Congo  — Children sit on the dirt, their clothes ragged and torn, their shoes punctured with holes, but their eyes bright and fixed on what's playing out in front of them.

In a corner of a refugee camp in conflict-wracked eastern Congo, about a dozen chess games are going, each one with its own fascinated audience.

The Soga Chess Club for children doesn't have enough tables and chairs. The “boards” are squares of paper with green and white blocks marked on them and are lined with plastic to protect them from the wear and tear coming their way. Irritatingly, the pieces sometimes topple over if players haven't found a flat enough stretch of ground to lay their game out on.

But the chess club founders say it’s good enough to try and take these kids' minds away from what they’ve seen and experienced so far: fighting and killing, hunger and fear. They've all lost their homes. Some have lost fathers, mothers or siblings in one of the world's worst humanitarian crises.

Chess is "a therapeutic escape from the stress and horrors these children have endured,” said Gabriel Nzaji, one of the club's instructors. He said the game encourages the children to be quiet and to focus, a way of calming their minds.

More than 5 million people have been displaced by decades of conflict in eastern Congo, where dozens of armed groups fight each other over land and control of areas rich in sought-after minerals. An increase in fighting in recent months has led to a new surge of refugees, and there's no end in sight for a displacement disaster that dwarfs many others that get more global attention.

Hundreds of thousands of people forced to escape the attacks that destroy their towns and villages have ended up in vast displacement camps like Kanyaruchinya, where the Soga Chess Club operates. The United Nations Children's Fund says around a quarter million children live in the camps, ripped away from their homes and their schools, and sometimes their families.

Soga has around 100 children signed up to its club. One of them is 9-year-old Heritier, who is still learning the game, but confident enough already to hand out his own lesson.

“Here,” he said, his fingers flicking across the board. "I’m doing everything to protect my king on the chessboard. I have to sacrifice this queen. You see that?”

"I like this game," Heritier said. “It relaxes me.”

The trauma suffered by children in eastern Congo is incalculable as aid agencies battle to provide food and shelter to as many of the millions that have been displaced as possible. Some of the children in the chess club have been living in the Kanyaruchinya camp for almost two years, their lives in limbo.

But in Heritier's grin and his newfound delight in a game — a given for so many kids — the club organizers see a sign of hope.

“The perspective of these children has changed drastically," said Nzaji. “(They) approach life with a different mindset.”

The organizers said they noticed that most of the children would spend their days engaged in rough, war-like games, sometimes involving sticks they'd swing at each other. They hope chess offers them something other than a mimicking of the conflict they've grown up around.

Akili Bashige, president of the Soga Chess Club, said parts of the camp have been transformed into sites of optimism by children playing chess. “Despite their limited resources, their passion persists,” he said of his club's recruits.

Soga has also taken the game to orphanages in the region, and Bashige said he wants to start clubs for children who live on the streets in nearby towns.

The club can also be uplifting to parents, who worry for their children and their future — which they see slipping away.

Arusi, a 13-year-old girl, recently won a tournament and with it a reputation for being a fierce competitor. Her mother beamed with pride as she recalled the feat.

"Before Soga chess, they were idle because of the war and a lack of schooling," said Feza Twambaze, Arusi’s mom. “Seeing them engaged and thriving fills me with immense joy.”